


Red Rose

by Sw33t__Sw3de (Sw33t_Sw3de)



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:02:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22832986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sw33t_Sw3de/pseuds/Sw33t__Sw3de
Summary: Charlotte Dubois is a maid in the Opera Populaire. She enjoys singing as she works, but what happens when someone notices?A Phantom of the Opera fanfiction- Set before the original storyI DO NOT OWN THE STORY OF THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS :)
Kudos: 7





	1. Watchful eyes

The unmistakable chime of the clock striking nine sounded throughout the mostly empty opera house. A few people still shuffled around, but for the most part, the building remained still and empty. Candles illuminated the space, as maids dusted the area, and stagehands prepared for the next show.

Charlotte wasn’t an ugly girl, but her beauty did seem to stray on the more eccentric side. Her light brown hair had been tied back in a single plait with a lilac ribbon, which matched the flowers outside. The color clashed gracefully with the rest of her black and white uniform. Somehow, the uniform did not keep her warm enough in the winter months, yet did not keep her cool in the summer months, either. Charlotte couldn’t win with her temperature problem. In the hallways in these mid autumn months, she shivered only occasionally. Rain pitter-pattered on the roof of the Paris Opera House, as it did quite often this time of year. Candles reached out from the walls, offering their light to any passerby who travels the hallways.

Stray dancers shuffled about further down the hallway. Charlotte stared at them longingly. Dancing must be lots of fun, to fly across the stage, to spin and turn freely. Among them, Charlotte was the ugly duckling. The nimble dancers’ costumes hugged their frames, falling into ocean blue flowing skirts that stopped at their knees. The dancers all wore the same shoes, which aided them in showing off their talents to an audience. Charlotte felt like the elephant in the room with her long black skirt and white apron. She longed to perform for an audience. No one really knew she existed. The sinking realization left as soon as it hit her.

Shaking her head, she tore her gaze away from the group, and entered the first room to tidy. Donning her maid’s uniform, Charlotte hummed as she worked in the lead singer’s dressing room, like always. With a sigh as she tucked stray strands of dark hair behind her ears, she began to tidy the elegant room. Time ticked by as she cleaned the room, wiping down objects that remained unused to the point where they collected dust and others, which were regularly used to the point where they became dirty.

Charlotte peered down the hallways of the room, listening and watching for some other signs of life. There were none. The dancers had left. Closing the door quietly, she decided to let her voice fly free, as a sparrow does on the wind. Singing songs from the performances she’s overheard, songs from her childhood, the job seemed to pass much quicker. Taking a step back to check over her work, she was satisfied, but a rose rested on the crimson armchair by the mirror. A black velvet ribbon encircled the stem and had been tied in a bow. No one else had been in the room since Charlotte had entered. Passing it off as forgotten from the user of the dressing room, she left the room, thinking nothing of it. Charlotte’s work was far from over. Entering the next room for her to clean with music on her lips, she began her duties without any thought of complaint, although the job was not fit for some. Most days, the job was peaceful and calm, while others were downright disgusting. Today seemed to fall in the first category.

She didn’t think much of the rose until another appeared that night. Near her worn leather satchel she’d left in the room set aside for employees to leave their things while they worked, another red rose laid on top of it, stem tied with black velvet. Charlotte found this one right before she left. Crouching down, she carefully picked it up by the stem with wonder. This is no coincidence.


	2. Growing Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another rose clearly from the same person. Charlotte is becoming anxious as she has now been left a letter adressed to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, 1 kudos and 10 hits on part one? Thats crazy, love you guys  
> <3  
> 

Even after the series of not-coincidences, Charlotte still continued to sing as she worked. After the next show, she began to go about her duties with song. Upon entering the same dressing room, her gaze fell to another rose. Before beginning to work, she heard two voices. Charlotte moved to stand in the doorframe, listening. She debated on peeking out out of curiosity of the owners of the voices, but decided against it. Maybe the people didn’t want her eavesdropping. Although Charlotte didn’t talk to others much, she didn’t think she would like it much if people listened to her conversations as they pleased. She rested her head against the dark wood door frame and listened.

“Be careful, Meg.” A woman’s voice, warning someone named Meg. She knew of one girl named Meg, a  concierge in the opera house. Madame Giry also instructed the dancers, 

“Mama?” After spending so much of her waking hours in the opera house, she knew who the two people must be. Madame Giry and her daughter. Charlotte wasn’t sure how old the girl was. Just by looks, she mentally placed Meg to be around thirteen years old. Even at her young age, she danced like she’d been doing it for thousands of years. 

“Yes, dear. Our ghost friend is playing his games again.” Ghost friend. The words echoed in her mind for a moment. Charlotte was able to decipher who the voices belonged to, but remained stumped on who the ghost friend must be. The ‘ghost friend’ was none of her business, so she ducked back into the room she had been instructed to clean. Instantly, a weight of guilt pressed itself into the pit of her stomach. She shouldn’t have eavesdropped, if this is the guilt that will burrow into her mind and nag at her conscience because of it. 

With a sigh, she closed the door and leaned against it as she did. Her mind wouldn’t keep quiet for even a second. Her focus clearly resided elsewhere. Nothing made sense anymore. Ever since that first rose appeared, the energy seemed off. Little did she know, Charlotte herself was the different one. She became more attentive, jumpy and on edge. Every time someone walked by, every muscle in her body tensed and her heart sped to an impossibly fast rhythm. Then, when she took a deep breath, she relaxed, tension fading with the sound of footsteps travelling away from her. Charlotte slumped, sliding into a sitting position on the floor with her knees nearly touching her chest. She needed a minute to regroup. As she rested, taking steady, slow breaths, her eyes moved up to the nearby table. 

An envelope rested on it, and she looked down to her feet. She’d deal with it later. What to do, what to do. Any move she made would surely be a mistake. Shaking off the anxiety coursing through her body, Charlotte stood, taking slow steps to peer at the envelope. Surely, this couldn’t be for her, or so she thought. In a matter of seconds, she was proven wrong. When her eyes scanned the surface of the table, her name was spelled out in loopy cursive in glittering silver ink.

_ Charlotte Dubois _

The envelope had been sealed with a red wax seal in the shape of a skull. It didn’t appear all the way dry, but for the most part, had dried solid. 

Everything inside of her mind screamed at her to leave the room and forget, but she soon found herself frozen in place as if her feet had grown roots. Roots that pushed through her shoes and into the floor, so she couldn’t even think about turning and walking away. Thoughts and ideas and scenarios about what to do darted about in her head, each seeming downright impossible. Panic rose inside of her as her heartbeat sped up. Then, Charlotte turn away from the table on her heel, covering her eyes with her hands. 

The world seemed to be muted, as if she’d been plunged under water in the nearby Seine river. Suddenly, calm washed over her like the quiet waters of the river lapping at the banks. 

Out of sheer panic, Charlotte abruptly left the room, closing the door and leaving the half-cleaned room behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading dudes, dont forget to comment and leave kudos :)
> 
> \- Sw33t_Sw3de


	3. Not so Secret Admirerer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte is admired by someone, but she can't tear her focus away from the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm not dead! Quarantine made me write another part of this fanfic. I started this in Psychology class when i was bored
> 
> this part has been brought to you by caffeine and tears 
> 
> :)

After abruptly leaving previously, it took every ounce of courage to go to work. What if she didn’t? Nothing good could come out of not going. Charlotte hadn’t found any reason to not go, except her situation. Someone was obviously watching her, but how? Every memory she recalled at work, she was, for the most part, alone. As she walked the cobblestone streets, weaving through crowds and her worries. Through the noise of others, she could barely hear her own footsteps, boots against stone. Entering the opera house, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Today will be a good day. 

Doubt tugged and nagged at her soul, after everything that had happened. The letter still laid in her bag, dormant. Curiosity dominated over doubt, and she stopped walking immediately, causing the person walking one step too closely behind to bump into her. 

“Careful,  _ mademoiselle _ ,” The man muttered under his breath, clearly exasperated. Charlotte sighed, moving closer to the outside wall of the nearby building. Breaking the seal, she opened the letter, eyes scanning the page. 

_ Dearest Charlotte, _

_ Your voice is truly extraordinary, my dear. I find myself longing to listen to you sing nearly every day. Please wait in the lead singer’s dressing room promptly upon arriving to work. I will be waiting.  _

_ Sincerely,  _

_ Your Angel of Music. _

_ P.S. Make sure the door is locked securely behind you.  _

Everything about this seemed like a terrible idea. Charlotte knew that she was admired for her voice, and the admiration seduced her. 

Soon, she found herself locking the lead singer’s dressing room behind her. As she glanced around the room, there sat a small box on the small table with a red rose next to it. As per usual, there was a velvet ribbon tied around the stem. 

She began to fidget with her hands behind her back. Anxiously looking around, Charlotte wondered why this ‘Angel of Music’ wanted to meet her here, especially with the door locked. 

Smoke began to emerge from behind the mirror. A fire? She rushed to the wall, placing the back of her hand up against the side of the mirror. Pulling it back against her chest, she didn’t expect it to be so cold. A silhouette of a figure became clearer to her eyes, slowly. She frantically took several steps back, heart racing. The masked man stepped out of the mirror, as if it were never there to begin with. He outstretched his arm to her, gesturing for her to take his gloved hand. She didn’t expect herself to be this eager to take his hand. Admiration is seductive, and after a life of living in the shadows, unnoticed, she thought of nothing else except that someone thought she was worth something.

She grasped his hand tentatively, as if feeling if it were real or not. His hand closed around hers, the smooth leather cool to the touch against her hand. He led her into a hallway behind the mirror, saying nothing. Candles lined the stone wall, illuminating the hallway. In the dim light, Charlotte could barely make out the silhouette of his figure. Most of it was hidden by his dark cloak. 

Only now did Charlotte have second guesses about whether or not she should be with this man. She’d never even seen him around before. She didn’t even know his name. Soon, the two reached the end of the hallway. Charlotte was greeted by murky waters and a small rowboat. He gestured for her to board the boat. As she was stepping into the boat, hiking up her skirt, he whispered in her ear. 

“Sing. You know the words.” Something about the cold, deep tone of his quiet voice resonated inside of her. As if she were on the edge of danger, the thrill intensified. 

“What are you talking abou-” Charlotte tried to ask for clarification, and he obliged, cutting her off mid-sentence. She clenched her jaw, thinking of what to do. 

“Sing, my angel. Sing with me.” His tone was more demanding this time, as if it was an order for her to sing. This is when the boat lurched forward when he pushed off from the dock with the oar. Charlotte, who was standing, nearly fell forward, but was caught by one of his strong arms. He lowered her down to the bottom of the boat, to sit as he rowed.

“Sing.” He said this a little bit louder this time, with the same tone as before. 

And she did, she began to sing one of the songs from a past opera she’d overheard rehearsals and performances, longing to be part of them herself. 

She sang the female lead’s part, and he sang the male lead’s part. The characters were supposed to be lovers, in the show. 

It seemed like only a few seconds, but the two soon reached another dock. The scent of burning candles was nearly overwhelming. Looking up, her gaze rested upon candles, and a grand pipe organ. Papers were scattered everywhere, bits of ideas and thoughts, all from this man’s mind. 

He stood and stepped out of the dock, cape trailing behind him. Outstretching his arm for her to take his hand, she took it, exiting the boat. She studied his masked face as she stepped onto the dock, wondering what exactly was under that white half-mask. 

“I didn’t expect you to come so soon, angel.” The corners of his lips turned up in a smirk. “However, I’m certain you would have come sooner or later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiiii dont forget to leave kudos and comment 
> 
> I love you <3
> 
> \- Sw33t_Sw3de


	4. No Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlotte begins to change her mind towards the strange man when asked to sing in his opera with little time to prepare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii!! Sorry I've been dead, it took me a while to figure out where to go with this LOL Don't forget to leave kudos and comment!  
> <3 Love you guys  
> \- Sw33t_Sw3de

“I didn’t expect you to come so soon, angel.” The corners of his lips turned up in a slight grin. “However, I’m certain you would have come sooner or later.”  
His words echoed inside of her mind. Had this been a trap all along? Had she just walked right into it? The eerie smirk on his face didn’t comfort her at all. Her gaze darted to the way they’d come. How foolish! To come blindly, playing right into his hands. Now, she began to be his puppet, his lump of clay, his canvas, her malleability fueled by her curiosity and naivety 

“Who are you?” She asked frantically, eyes darting around his lair. One of his gloved hands slithered to her waist and pulled her towards him. Charlotte looked into his eyes, her brows furrowed in bewilderment. 

“I'm your angel of music, my dear.” The way he called her ‘my dear’ sent shivers down her spine, out of fear or excitement or arousal, she didn’t know. She put her hands on her hips, sizing him  
up.

“Angel of music?” She repeated, making sure she’d heard him correctly. He nodded, taking off his hat and resting it on the nearby candlelit table. The entire room was illuminated by candles. Tiny flames twinkled like stars in the night sky, even though there was no breeze to act as music to the flames to urge them to dance. 

“I’ve been listening to you, Charlotte.” 

“Why?” She asked, not thinking much of herself. As a maid in the opera house, it was practically her job to be ordinary. 

“Does it matter?” He snapped, stepping towards her. “It’s a compliment; you do have a gorgeous voice.” This time, his tone softened and his hand cupped the side of her face. Charlotte felt her cheeks heat up, but in the worst way. She didn’t want to feel what she did. Her arms dropped to her sides, then reached out to hold his hand in hers, feeling the cool leather of his gloves against her soft skin.

“Well, thank you,” She paused, wordless and helpless. Without adequate words, she had no way to express her thoughts and tell the strange man how she felt. After a moment of thought, words came into her grasp. “but I think I should go now.” Then, she looked to where the boat had been expertly tethered to a nearby pole. Charlotte slipped her hand out of his and clutched it to her chest. 

“You’re not leaving.” His low voice took on a demanding tone this time, to subtly threaten consequences if she were to even think about leaving. His hand cupped on her face tightened ever so slightly, as a boa constrictor does as it begins to trap its prey. 

“Bu-” He pressed one of his gloved fingers against her lips, as if to silence her. 

“Step out of the shadows for once. Show the world your voice with my music.”  
“That’s very kind of you, but no thank you. I’d rather leave.” Upon looking to his clenched jaw and furrowed brows, she reconsidered. “On second thought…”

“So you’ll sing?” He asked to clarify, since she’d changed her mind so quickly. Charlotte nodded. “Good. That’s what I hoped you’d say.” He strode towards his organ and picked up a book. “Learn this.” The phantom said as he set the book down on a table nearby. “It’s your part in the opera.” He briefly explained, clearly not wanting to explain it again. 

“When is it?”

“Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow?” She repeated in disbelief. That was hardly enough time to prepare to sing an entire lead part of an opera! “Isn’t there someone else? To play the part, I mean.”

“Yes, but it’s my opera and I’ll do as I please.” He looked her up and down, eyeing her curves and how her uniform fit her body. Imagining how she’d look without it, he stayed silent for a moment, letting his fantasies unwind in his sea of thoughts. Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest, quickly figuring out how he was looking at her. “But for now, I think,” He paused, stepping towards her. The man let his hands wander to her hips and pull her closer to him. She peered up at him, letting her eyes wander all over his face, studying his sunken in eyes, his strong jawline and pointed nose. Her eyes lingered on his lips, wondering exactly how it would feel to have her lips pressed against his. “You’re mine and I’ll do as I please with you, too.”


End file.
